


Son, Don't Cry

by AnotherReasonToFight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Between Mary and Dean, Gen, Songfic, family moment, lullaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherReasonToFight/pseuds/AnotherReasonToFight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary sings a lullaby to Dean that he still remember years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son, Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Purifiedemon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Purifiedemon).



> Okay, so this was inspired by a wonderful audio post that I heard off of Tumblr. I heard it and just..gah, I had to write this. I heard it from purifiedemon (JESS!). She came up with the lullaby and when I heard it I wanted to write something for it so here it is! Her voice is magical and just....gosh. I just really hope that I can at least partially do her lullaby justice. Okay, I'll stop rambling. Here's a one shot that I really hope ya'll enjoy.

Mary leaned against the sink counter, her hands automatically moved to rest on top of her round belly. Three more months and little Sammy would come along. A smile played along her mouth, pulling the corners of her lips up as she rubbed her hands over her stomach. Dean was already elated at the idea of a younger brother. Of course he had been a bit put out when he discovered he would not be able to play with Sammy right away.  
She could practically imagine it already, her two young boys growing up, Dean, her eldest always being there his younger brother. Mary couldn't help but wonder who Sammy would take after. Dean was already following in his father's footsteps, sitting beside him on the couch with a small cup of water instead of the larger can of soda that John carried. He already was taking interest in cars as well, he would watch with his green eyes wide as John studied the pieces underneath the hood of the Impala.  
Still, Dean was her baby, his soft blond hair, his wide green eyes and the ferocity with which he would hug her. She knew he would always be her baby.  
"Mommy."  
Mary turned, her gaze moving to her son who stood in the doorway of the kitchen a scruffy teddy bear clutched tightly in his small hands. Her eyes softened, at his wide stare.  
"What's wrong, baby?" She murmured as she moved forward, her hand slipping out in front of her in search of her son's.  
Dean moved forward, his smaller hand seeking the warmth of his mother's. Soon her soft hand enveloped his, her grip tight but kind, strong and still comforting.  
"I-," he paused, uncertain for a moment and clutched his bear tighter in the hand that wasn't held by his mom. "I'm scared."  
Dean's eyes searched his mother's face, taking reassurance in her smile and loving eyes.   
"Okay, baby," Mary answered. "Let's get you back upstairs, it'll all be fine, I promise baby."  
She could see the panicked look that crossed his face and gave his hand a tender squeeze. As she took a step forward, Dean followed along tentatively, the fear clean in how cautiously he moved.  
"It'll all be okay Dean, I promise. There's nothing to be scared of, baby."  
Dean took small relief in her voice and lightly she spoke to him. He knew that his mom would never let anything happen to him. She always hugged him tight before laying him down in bed, making sure to tuck him in tight and tell him that angels were watching over him. It was just that sometimes he couldn't help the fear that gripped him as he floated on the edges of sleep.  
It felt as if something lurked in the darkness of his room, dark eyes staring until he finally dozed. Sometimes it became too much and he just wasn't able to sleep. Dean's eyes only widened as they continued upstairs and down the hall, before he pulled to a stop outside of his bedroom. He could only stare into the dark depths of the room, a soft light filtering through the window but casting impenetrable shadows along the corners.  
"But, mommy, it's dark in there," he pleaded, bright green eyes begging her to stop.  
"Dean, it's okay, nothing can hurt you. There's nothing here but us, I promise."  
He didn't move from the doorway, still clutching to his mom with one hand and his teddy bear with the other. His eyes searched the room, looking for any sign that she was wrong.  
"Will you sing the lullaby?"  
Mary couldn't stop the soft smile that graced her face as she nodded, "Of course, baby."  
Her son nodded, still not moving for a second. Then he jerked forward, pulling her towards his bed before he climbed beneath the covers.  
Mary continued to smile to herself as she pulled the blankets around her son, a soft hum starting as she tucked Dean in tightly. As she finished, pulling the covers snug she sat on the edge of the bed, one hand moving to her son's untidy blond hair.  
"Son, don't cry, it's all okay.  
There's nothing for you, to fear.  
The angel's watching over you,  
He listens while you pray."  
She hummed lightly, carding a hand gently through her son's hair. His eyes stared into hers, worry slowly slipping away as he watched her.   
"The dark is not a scary place,  
It's the same as it was in the light.  
Just smile and know that you are safe,  
Your faith will make it bright."  
Mary carried the tune for a second longer, Dean humming softly with her until she finished the lullaby. She leaned down and placed a kiss to his forehead, smiling as his eyes began to drift close.   
"Angels are watching over you, Dean," she whispered as she drew her lips away from his brow.  
Carefully, she stood, trying to disturb his resting form as little as possible. As she crept out of the room a small voice followed her.  
"Thanks mom."

Dean shut the door of the hotel room as quietly as possible, tip-toeing into the room that his brother was already asleep in.  
"Kid, sleeps like a log," Dean murmured to himself as he crossed to the bed closest to the door.  
Not bothering to undress, Dean collapsed into the bed, pulling the gun from his belt and quickly shoving it beneath the pillow he rested his head on. He shifted, propping himself against the pillows, not quite sitting upright but not fully laying down either.  
His eyes observed the room, gaze moving from the door of the hotel room to the window that light still travelled through. For a moment he stared at this little brother who, although twenty-three and younger by four years, somehow managed to be taller than him. He wondered for a brief moment how he could sleep so easily but discarded the thought with a shake of his head. At least the kid was finally sleeping again.  
Dean continued to sit against his pillows, hands twitching in his lap as his gaze probed at the dark shadows of the room. He could feel the unease settling in the pit of his stomach and grimaced. The strange inkling fear that dripped through him, spread like a sickness always made him feel weak, like he was a boy again.  
Then, while the fear continued to course through him, another feeling moved with it, curbing the illness and making him feel stronger. He frowned as a thought tugged at the back of his mind, edging it's way forward. Not truly thinking it over, Dean began to hum, almost silently at first and then louder as words drifted through his head. Something about the dark and being safe. Then it hit him, crashed into him really.   
He could almost hear his mom singing the words to him, promising he was safe, promising that angels were watching over him. He continued to hum, if only to feel like she was still with him as he kept a watch over the dark hotel room. Then, slowly, he could feel his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier, the lullaby calming him and keeping him safe just like he kept Sammy safe.


End file.
